Unfaithful
by HJB
Summary: She loves him, but constantly has to betray him. Her heart breaks a little every time she sees his knowing face.


Disclaimer: I don't own anything and in no way financially profit.

Summary: She loves him, but constantly has to betray him. Her heart breaks a little every time she sees his knowing face.

AN: Well, here is Chuck fic attempt number two. It's fairly short, mainly because I'm nervous to try anything longer. I have a tendency not to finish. Grammar isn't always my best skill, so feel free to give me some constructive criticism. I don't have a beta, but I did proofread.

I've got two other stories in the works. A short one called "Tear my heart open" and a longer one called "Chuck vs. The High Seas". Be on the lookout.

This was somewhat inspired by the Rihanna song.

**Unfaithful**

His hands roam over my body. They're as smooth as silk. _He_ is smooth and good-looking. A girl couldn't ask for more. Lips leave a trail of moisture on the nape of my neck. He pants. I moan. Things are progressing well.

I am pushed onto my back as he straddles me. The couch sinks under our weight. Our kissing ends momentarily, as he takes time to stare at me. A grin spreads over his face. I reciprocate and a familiar glint appears in his eyes.

My lips meet his again in a fierce need. His hands cup my breasts through my sheer blouse. He grabs the bottom and pulls. I get the message and adjust my arms. The shirt is off in no time. The air is cool and I shiver slightly. He runs his hands down my body, before reaching for my bra and unclipping it with one hand, just the way Chuck does it.

Damn. He always enters my thoughts at the worst time. I can't afford any slips with this case. Chuck doesn't matter.

Who am I kidding? He's the most important person in my life. The curly haired computer geek..excuse me, nerd constantly occupies my thoughts. We've been secretly going out for five months and I can't imagine my life without him.

A nip at my neck brings me back to reality and my guilt worthy situation. The fact that I'm about to sleep with someone for the job wouldn't normally bother me, but my life is no longer normal. An image of Chuck's expression as I left our apartment flitters through my mind.

He knows what I'm doing. He's always known. Tonight I made up some excuse about shopping, but it was just to satisfy my conscience. As our relationship grows, it gets harder to convince myself that I'm a good person.

Chuck never says anything. He just listens to my lies and shakes his head. I don't normally do it, but for some reason, I looked back at him as the door closed tonight. His eyes were filled with pain, anger, and a begrudging understanding.

A part of him wonders if I enjoy the sex. He'd never admit it, but I know. All of me wants to shout from the rooftop that I don't and that he is the one I love. That declaration would break the taboo he's put on it, so I stay silent. I couldn't really admit it, even if he wanted me to. CIA rules handcuff me at every step of our relationship.

They don't know that it's real. Casey suspects, but we remain united that the move was necessary for cover only. If the agency knew, I'd be ripped from his life faster than a dual core processor, as Chuck likes to say. We have contingency plans, plenty of them. They all require him to leave his family and friends, which is something I'm not willing to let him do, not for me.

My breath leaves my body as I feel the man enter me. The general ordered me to get close to Kent Simmons, a wealthy oil tycoon with some suspicious charity donations. I've been seducing him for days and tonight closes the deal. After this performance, I should have free access to his private residence and files. My eyes slip shut and I picture Chuck's face as Kent moves back and forth.

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The lights are off when I creep into the apartment. A light snore sounds through the apartment, signaling Chuck's state. I set my purse down and slip off my shoes. It's late, but I head to the bathroom for a shower. Turning the knobs, I wait for the water to warm before getting under the spray.

A shot of anger courses through me. I turn the knob the rest of the way. The liquid begins to burn my skin. Steam fills the room's small confines. Sobs rack my body, as I sink to the tub's bottom. I try to keep them silent for fear of waking Chuck.

It's all too much, too dirty. I grab the washcloth, lather it with soap, and begin scrubbing every inch of my body. As time goes by, I press harder and harder. The filth won't go away, which makes me shake uncontrollably.

He doesn't deserve it. When can our happiness be the most important thing? Why can we be a real couple with regular problems? I want to be able to tell him the whole truth when he asks me a question. I'm a whore. Chuck shouldn't be with someone like me.

I continue to scrub, but the water has gone cold. Letting the washcloth slip to the ground, I turn off the shower and sit still for a few moments. My arms strain to pull my body from the proverbial pit of despair, also known as the bathtub.

These pajamas aren't like the sexy lingerie I wore for work. I feel too vulnerable for that. An oversized t-shirt is all that adorns my body when I enter the hallway. Running my hand along the wall, I locate the bedroom and slip through the cracked door.

The room is dark, but a streak of moonlight brightens it enough for visibility. Chuck is sleeping soundly on his side of the bed. I watch his chest rise and fall a few times before pulling back the covers on my side. The mattress shifts as it adjusts to my weight.

Instead of closing my eyes and going to sleep, I stare intently at Chuck's face. He senses it somehow and begins to stir. His gorgeous eyes open and fixate on my face. A blank, expressionless look is all that greets me.

"How was shopping?"

The sting is hard to take. He isn't usually spiteful, but every once and a while it bubbles to the surface. I open my mouth to answer. Nothing happens. I don't know what to say. The emotion is too raw. As hard as I fight them, my eyes begin to tear. Chuck's face softens immediately.

"Chuck…"

My voice cracks.

"Hold me, please."

My vulnerability is something he rarely sees. Realizing that, his arms immediately wrap around me and I bury my head in his chest. Sobs once again rack my body. There's no need to be quiet this time. The palm of his hand makes slow circles on my back and he whispers reassuring words in my ear.

"I love you Chuck. I love you so much. I'm so sorry."

He holds me just a bit tighter.

"I know, I know. I love you too."

We sit in relative silence for a bit before I can gain the courage to say what I've wanted to say for a long time.

"I'm quitting."

His hand stops its soothing ministrations and he pulls back to look me in the eye.

"You don't….."

I put a hand on his chest.

"I do. You're more important. I can't do it anymore. It's not worth the price we'd end up paying."

Chuck doesn't say anything, but pulls me close once again and plants a kiss on my head.

"Thank you. I didn't know how to ask, not that I ever would have, but I thought about it."

I extricate myself his arms, only to stare at my hands.

"Can you do something for me Chuck?"

He puts his hand on top of mine to stop their fidgeting.

"Anything baby."

"Can you…it's just that I feel so dirty….I need to feel something else, someone else. It was…he was so greedy and I'm so…"

He stops me with a kiss, knowing what I was going to say. I need to feel someone else inside of me. To feel at one with the person I love. He moves slowly for fear of shattering my precarious mental and emotional state. His shirt is off and mine quickly follows it to the floor.

The memory of Kent Simmons is quickly erased by the loving touch of Chuck Bartowski. I feel at home as he enters me and I don't plan on leaving. This is the man I love and I will no longer be unfaithful.


End file.
